Four Drinks I'm Wasted
by Psy456
Summary: An angst lite Staubrey standalone inspired by 'Talia' by King Princess. (I can't end on a sad note.)


**Four Drinks I'm Wasted**

A/N: Something I didn't plan on writing and then I had ideas while driving home. I'm annoyed that I'm writing angst. I'm even more annoyed I picked on Aubrey but it… fit.

Inspired by King Princess' '_Talia_' but I'm a soft and useless human so the angst is merely 'light medium'.

Thanks as always to Maus, the Master Beta.

* * *

~A~

Aubrey groaned quietly as she swam through the thick whiskey haze toward consciousness.

As had become standard, she ran through a mental hangover checklist to try and take stock of what she'd been up to the night before and how rough her morning might be.

Headache – check.

Feeling like something died in her mouth – check.

Nausea – check, though she knew it could be worse.

At home in her own bed instead of passed out on the couch, or the bathroom floor, or once in the shrub outside in her backyard… she listened for the comforting bubble of the aquarium across the room – check.

Imagined warmth of the woman who left her lying beside her in bed?

Fucking. Check.

Faint memories of the night before were slow to surface.

"_Goddamnit Aubrey, give me your fucking keys." Hands pulled at her arm, trying to pry her fingers apart._

"_Fuck you, Beca." Aubrey shot back, lifting her hand above her head_. "_Why do you even care? You've never really liked me, so what the fuck business of yours is it if I live or die?_"

_It wasn't that she had a death wish. It wasn't like she __wanted__ to die. She had just stopped caring one way or the other._

"_Seriously? You can say that to me?" Beca looked hurt – shocked and devastated Aubrey would think later – and even though part of her was horrified at what she was saying, it was at the bottom of a sea of liquor and she didn't care. Wouldn't let herself. "If I didn't fucking __**care**__, Aubrey, I wouldn't fucking be here stopping you from fucking killing yourself by getting into your fucking car!"_

_Aubrey sneered and keyed the remote lock. "Who asked you to?" She opened the door and prepared to get in when she was staggered forward by a weight on her back. Shock worked its way through the alcohol in her system as she realized Beca had literally jumped on her back and was trying to bodily prevent Aubrey from sitting in the driver's seat._

"_I am not going to let you leave us! I am not going to let you fucking leave me and Chloe behind to explain to Stacie what the fuck happened! I am not going to fucking let you fucking quit! Posens don't fucking quit!"_

_Aubrey swung in a half circle, trying to dislodge the arms and legs that were wrapped tightly around her body. Beca's words were bouncing around in her head, trying to remind her that she wasn't truly alone, she had people who cared and it was __**she**__ who was pushing __**them**__ away. With a strength she didn't know she had she flung Beca off her in an attempt to remove all the guilt that had slammed into her harder than Beca's tackle. _

_Anger suffused her, made her want to lash out and in the cold light of morning she would realize it was at herself but at the time Beca had all her focus. She swung her fist at Beca's head, noticing her friend's (because she still was, despite everything Aubrey had been saying to her and Aubrey knew it) eyes widen in shock and move too late to miss it entirely but it merely skimmed off her cheek and Aubrey's hand slammed into the metal frame between the front and rear doors._

"_Aubrey!" _

That explained the throbbing that had been slowly getting worse in her hand. Still laying with her eyes closed she flexed her right hand carefully, relieved that it didn't seem to be broken, just swollen and painful. The rest of the night was only bits and pieces but she thought that a terrified Beca had frantically checked her for broken bones and carefully deposited Aubrey in the passenger seat and drove them home. There were flashes of red hair, ice packs and possibly someone had brushed her teeth for her? She also thought that Beca had undressed her and dumped her less than carefully into bed, but tucked her in.

She really had been shitty to Beca and Chloe since Stacie had walked out on her three months ago. She knew they loved her. That they _had_ been there for her. Trying to keep her from the spiral they could see happening. Comfort take-out food and movie nights that Beca hadn't said a word about. Nothing had helped.

The drinking hadn't been the plan. She wasn't an alcoholic, even though that's exactly what alcoholics said. She came from a family of high functioning alcoholics and knew the signs. Even if she could lie to others, Aubrey could almost never lie to herself. Her self-hatred would have jumped at the chance to call her a failure for joining the ranks of her boozy relatives after a life of vowing never to become them. She could stop whenever she wanted. Except she didn't want to.

Because the only time Aubrey _could_ lie to herself was when she was drunk.

She could make herself believe that Stacie was still there.

Drink enough and she could see the love of her life in front of her, dancing; smiling that sexy smile that was meant for only Aubrey. The one that promised sinful things in silken sheets and made her body sing in anticipation.

Feel her touch. Taste her lipstick.

Feel her lying in bed when Aubrey finally collapsed into it, certain she would remain when Aubrey woke.

They had been together for years, waiting to get married until Aubrey had finished law school and got settled at a firm. The wedding was small, immediate friends and family only, and the honeymoon was heaven on Earth. When they got back, Aubrey began to work her way through the ranks, lured ever on by the promise of being made a junior partner if she just worked hard enough.

The fights began their second year of marriage.

"_I'm doing it for us, for our future!" Aubrey slammed down the notepad she'd been writing on. "Why can't you see that?"_

"_What future, Aubrey?!" Stacie stood in the doorway, back straight and eyes snapping fire. And, Aubrey would only realize as she played the memories back after it had all fallen apart, pain and loneliness. "What kind of future are you working towards if I never get to fucking see you?"_

"_I just need a little more time! They have to promote me this time!" She gritted her teeth. "I'm doing it for us!"_

The fight was always the same.

Until one day it wasn't.

"_I don't think I have any more time to give, Aubrey. I miss you even when you're here. Buried in the next case… and the next." Stacie wasn't sobbing but tears streamed down her cheeks and Aubrey's chest went cold. "It hurts too much."_

Every night she would sort through her memories, pulling out favorites until she cried herself to sleep, wondering how she could be so stupid.

Three weeks after Stacie had walked out and not come back except to pack her bags, Aubrey had hurt so much she drank just to numb the pain. There was a block of ice that ached in her chest until she drowned it in whatever was handy. She'd mentally joke that she herself was on the rocks as she took another drink. She imagined what she would do if Stacie were there. What she'd say. How she'd vow to do better, be a better wife. Make up every missed dinner, missed phone call, missed nights on the couch binge watching Netflix.

As the night grew late and the bottle grew lighter, it was almost like Stacie had been there and Aubrey fell asleep thinking Stacie was beside her.

She was shattered when she woke alone in the morning and called in sick for the first time.

That was only the beginning.

She chased the dream every night, while growing more and more irritable at work. Stormed out of meetings after arriving late. Snapped at clients and yelled at interns. Counted the seconds until she could get home and open the bottle she'd buy on the way.

Two weeks ago she'd gone to work still half-drunk from the night before.

She was put on suspension pending a review. She'd been a model employee until then and her boss gave her three weeks to get her shit together. Personally she thought they were giving her a chance because she was their best researcher and the boss thought her legs looked great in a skirt.

Aubrey stayed home and drank for the first week.

Chloe and Beca had been alternately furious and cloyingly concerned when they found out.

"_Why didn't you tell us? We could've-" Chloe somehow looked ready to scream and cry at the same time._

"_Helped?" Aubrey laughed derisively. "No, you can't."_

"_We love you, Aubrey. We just want you to be happy." Chloe's hand on her arm had burned and Aubrey jerked free and stalked to the kitchen._

"_Got a time machine in your pocket, Chlo?" Aubrey snorted and poured herself another shot._

It was the same old shit every time. They couldn't help her and she didn't even know why they would try. There was obviously something wrong with her; something that made her unlovable. She had ruined the one thing that gave her life meaning. Stacie had left her and it was just a matter of time before Beca and Chloe figured it out and left. She didn't deserve them and maybe it was just better to lose them now than later when she failed them too.

She had started going to their favorite bar because there were different memories there that she wanted to relive.

Winning at darts despite Stacie's long arms that Aubrey teased gave her an advantage.

Slow dancing to the jukebox in a dark corner as if they were the only two in the room.

Losing at pool because Stacie was a natural born hustler.

Unfortunately the problem with going to your favorite local bar is that sometimes they know you.

Sometimes they know your friends.

Sometimes they call annoying busybodies who try to tell you that you have to stop.

But she couldn't stop because then the pain would find her and Aubrey had always been an amazing runner in school. It translated easily from physical activity to metaphorical sprints around the void of her own mind.

She _**had**_to drink to keep Stacie with her any way she could. Why couldn't they see that?

She sighed and tried to find the energy to move. To dispel that feeling of warmth in bed with her. The more awake she was before she got up, the more that seemed to hurt. Bracing herself she reached out her left hand to sweep through the empty space that matched the one in her heart.

Her fingers brushed against warm, soft skin.

She froze, her mind somewhere between '_I've finally done it - I've drunk myself into insanity_' and '_Beca must have stayed to make sure I didn't actually kill myself._' She pulled her hand back to her side and clenched both fists, increasing the throbbing ache from where she'd punched her own car.

"Aubrey."

Everything shut down. Because that wasn't Beca.

She was afraid to look - it couldn't be. **She** _couldn't_ be **here**. Because Aubrey had fucked it up, fucked it all up: her friends; her work; the reason for her very existence.

"Bree." Warm living fingers took her cold nerveless ones and pressed them to lips Aubrey could see clearly in the screaming darkness of her mind.

"You can't be here." Aubrey's voice shook so bad it was almost intelligible. "I pushed you away."

"I'm here." Warm breath skimmed over her fingers. It felt so real. More real than the alcohol dreams usually did. She must have really fucked up if she was still this drunk. "All you have to do is open your eyes and look at me."

"I always see you," Aubrey said softly. Since this wasn't real, she squeezed the hand holding hers. "At least when I drink... You're here. You're in my arms. And I stop feeling like I'm dying in slow motion."

"_Oh baby_." The broken, sorrowful tenderness in it further opened wounds that had never even begun to heal. "This isn't who you are." Drops of liquid hit her hand and Aubrey wondered how a dream could cry. "I know this isn't you."

"I don't know who I am without you." Aubrey said softly. "I don't know how to find myself without you to catch me." Introspection wasn't normal for her - overthinking, yes, but not this two way dialog with her subconscious. But she had to admit, she found it comforting to hear Stacie's voice wrap around her once more.

"I'm sorry I left." Lips kissed her hand again. "I shouldn't have. I should have stayed and fought for us."

"It's all my fault. I was so wrong," Aubrey stirred restlessly when the warmth shifted closer to her. "I couldn't see I was working toward nothing at the cost of everything." She gave a bitter laugh. "They weren't going to make me a partner; I was just too blind to see he was just using me to win his own damn cases." She shook her head against her pillow. "Doesn't matter, they're probably going to fire me."

"You're better than them, Bree." Another shift and the long, lithe body that pressed against her brought tears to Aubrey's eyes. "I've always told you that you need to find a place who appreciates you as something other than a drone slave."

"Maybe," Aubrey shrugged carelessly. "But what does it matter now? I've thrown away the only future that ever really mattered." A sob choked her. "I miss you so much, love." The advantages of hallucinating were you could say anything and the only person to hear it was you. "The world has no laughter. No color. No light. No purpose. No hope."

"Honey." Lips pressed against her temple. "Please look at me. _See me_." She sounded so sad, so desperate that Aubrey felt new guilt lap at her.

"You'll disappear. Like you always do when I wake up." Aubrey licked her dry lips. "I'm not ready… for that yet." It hurt, oh it hurt to feel her so clearly after months of smoke and shadows. But to lose this dream would be so much worse.

"I won't disappear." Another kiss to her temple as a long arm stretched across her stomach. "I _promise_ you." The sense of comfort – of _**home**_ – the achingly familiar touch brought was so strong Aubrey's body relaxed of its own volition.

"I've broken my promises so many times… " Aubrey said wistfully. "I would give anything to go back and do it over. Treat you better – because you deserve nothing but love. Not be ignored or asked to wait a few minutes that stretched late into the night. Show you that nothing else in this entire fucked up world matters but **you**."

"Do that now. Open your eyes and look at me, Aubrey." The whisper in her ear was everything Aubrey wanted to believe. Everything she'd tried to believe before and woke to an empty bed. An empty house. An empty heart.

"I'm afraid to." Tears slipped from her eyes as she began, for the first time, to wonder.

She was afraid to be alone.

Suddenly terrified she was not.

"Don't be - I'm here, love." Lips trailed over the side of her face. "I swear." Hands took hers and pressed it against a strong and fast beating heart. "I'm _here_."

"That's why I'm afraid," Aubrey whispered, unable to recognize herself in the broken voice that hung in the air.

"_Please_."

Aubrey swallowed thickly as she balanced on the knife edge of indecision.

If she did and Stacie wasn't there, the weight of loneliness would quite likely crush her.

If Stacie was there… Aubrey's shame would kill her. She wasn't proud of who she'd become. She knew she was out of control. She just didn't care anymore.

If Stacie was actually there… Aubrey could smell the alcohol coming from her own pores. She knew the state of their house. The bottles left carelessly on counters. Take out containers piled up on top of a garbage can too full. She didn't want to see the disappointment or, worse, the pity.

"I'm ashamed." She hadn't meant to say it and wished she could take the words back. "I've… I'm not… I don't deserve…" she trailed off as a sob rose viciously in her chest and all but strangled her as it refused to come out. "You."

"I love you," Stacie said softly, still holding Aubrey's hand against her chest. "We'll get through this. There's nothing that we can't work through as long as we're together. Nothing is lost forever."

"You still love me? After… everything?" She didn't want to believe… couldn't stop hoping.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Aubrey Posen." Stacie's voice was still quiet but the truth in her words was louder than the rush of blood in Aubrey's ears. "The past three months all I've done is miss you. I told myself otherwise, but when Beca called me last night… in hysterics… told me how you didn't care if you lived or died…" A tremor shook the bed as Stacie's breath hitched. "Nothing that had happened mattered anymore. I couldn't live in a world where you were not. I came right over; Beca let me in. She and Chloe are passed out on the couch and I've been watching you sleep, afraid you'd slip away if I closed my eyes."

"Funny," Aubrey gave a humorless chuckle. "I'm afraid you'll slip away if I open mine."

"I know," Stacie whispered. "But I'm here, love."

Aubrey steeled herself. Tried to harden her heart so when she opened her eyes to an empty room it wouldn't destroy her.

"Before I do, there's something I have to tell you. While I can. Before you're gone." Aubrey took a careful breath. "You are the best part of me, Stacie. I was nothing before you and I'm less than nothing without you. You brought a love into my life I thought I didn't need and I broke the promises I made when we got married. I took you for granted and mere words cannot express how sorry I am that I hurt you. If you were really here, I would spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of your love."

Gentle fingers against her cheek followed as Aubrey turned her head, her heart trying to break its way out of the constraints of her ribcage.

"I know, Aubrey… but you already are. We just lost sight of that." A gentle kiss was placed against her lips. "I promise we'll be better. **Both** of us."

Slowly, as if she were expecting a blow, Aubrey opened her eyes to stare into liquid emerald pools that shimmered with tears. She waited for several seconds, waiting for the mirage to vanish like so many had.

But she didn't.

Stacie smiled at her, so tenderly that Aubrey's heart almost broke with the love that welled up inside her.

Wonderingly Aubrey reached up and touched her jaw, tracing one thumb across her lips.

"Stacie?" Hopeful. Terrified.

"Always, my only." Stacie pulled her in close and Aubrey buried her face in her neck, inhaling deeply as the scent that was uniquely Stacie's filled her senses. One she had been unable to replicate no matter how much she drank. She shuddered as giant glaciers cracked and fell away, freeing her from the weight that had been pressing on her for months. Years. "_**Always**_."

Real.

Solid.

Hers.


End file.
